A History of Not Ending
by mackillian
Summary: This time, Beverly gets to save the universe.
1. Chapter 1

A History of Not Ending

Beverly Crusher absently tapped her fingers on the table as she went over another calibration report from her staff. The report represented the winning side of her losing battle against the boredom of both her staff and herself. The _Enterprise_ was conducting another ferrying mission of a group of Rather Important Delegates to some Even More Important Negotiations that had to be run Six Weeks Distant at Warp Five. They were currently miring in the midst of week three. She scowled.

"Is the report that exciting, Doctor?"

The familiar timbre of the voice already bringing a warm smile to her face, Beverly glanced up. "The opposite, actually. And we have three more weeks of this, and then six more on the return trip. And we all have you to thank for this."

Jean-Luc Picard raised his eyebrows. "Me? What have I got to do with this? It's Command who decides where and when we go."

"If you weren't so good at diplomacy, we'd be out exploring instead of you refereeing the mindless nattering of huffy diplomats."

Holding her gaze, the captain strode into the office and took a seat in a chair across from Beverly's desk. He crossed his legs before answering, "If I've done my job correctly, the diplomats wouldn't be huffy. In fact, I think it's my chief medical officer who's getting huffy. Downright bitter, if you ask me."

"Oddly enough, I didn't ask you." She settled back into her chair and tabbed on her terminal so she could input her reviews. Without looking, she continued, "Not that I don't mind some distracting verbal sparring, but I should be getting back to these fantastically exciting reports. Don't you have something captainly you should be doing?" Question given, she glanced over to watch for the non-verbal answer.

Picard frowned slightly before beginning to fidget with his hands.

As she'd suspected, he wouldn't give a verbal answer because he had none. "Admit it it, Jean-Luc, you're just as bored as the rest of us."

He glowered.

She smirked. Perhaps she could make a weeks-long game of this teasing, and then the time wouldn't be quite so filled with boredom. Perhaps she could even spur him to bring up the subject of 'them' again so she could shock him with the answer she'd neglected to give him seven months before. She had no idea why she'd answered with what she had, and no clue as to why she'd left his quarters. In fact, she almost suspected that she'd been controlled by some higher-powered beings with an entirely different agenda from hers—namely, to keep her and Jean-Luc separate for an interminable amount of time. _Well_, she thought to herself, _that time must come to an end in these three to nine weeks, give or take_, _and depending on the powers-that-be_.

"How can I help you, Doctor?" asked a nurse from the doorway.

For a moment, Beverly could've sworn she'd never met this nurse before in her life. Then she was certain that she couldn't imagine Isra not being on her staff. However, she _was_ certain that she'd not summoned the lieutenant. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, in finding ways to help us pass the time we have, aside from wallowing in boredom." She gestured at the padd of reports in Beverly's hand. "Like those endlessly exciting reports."

Beverly wondered if her sarcasm was catching—and if it was, if she could find a cure for it. Goodness, she _was_ bored. But she didn't recall voicing her boredom to Isra, much less asking for her opinion on it. She said as much.

Isra frowned, and then sighed. "Oh, all right." Then she snapped her fingers and the three of them found themselves in a room—at least, what Beverly and Picard suspected was a room—that was entirely blank. The color of the walls, floor, and ceiling were white, but the color was probably only a trick of the eyes, attempting to provide some sort of visual information to the brain that made sense.

Ignoring his surroundings, the captain rounded on Isra and practically threw the name at her. "Q!"

The lieutenant heaved the sigh of a being exasperated with the small minds and tiny emotions of mortals, a sigh that was very much Q-like. "I am not Q," she said, quite indignantly, if a Q were capable of being indignant.

"You most certainly are Q."

She made a dismissive motion with her finely tapered fingers. "Fine. I'm not _your_ Q. Is that better?"

Beverly raised an eyebrow. "Does he know you refer to him that way?"

Isra—or Q—or whoever this being was, smirked in the same way Beverly had smirked at Jean-Luc minutes before. The smirk of a woman getting the best of her man and delighting in it. "He does now."

"Who are you?"

"I am Q's significant other. I have been for..." she trailed off, pausing as if she were pondering something, though beings of her exact nature need not to pause to ponder, though they were not beyond adding a bit of dramatic effect. "Forever."

Both Picard and Crusher replied immediately and in unison: "I'm sorry."

"It's not as bad as you think."

"It's worse?" Beverly asked. She could hardly fathom any being having a relationship with Q for even the most minute amount of time, much less what was, in all practicality, eternity.

"Not any worse than your non-relationship relationship with the captain here," Q replied. "Oh, and stop wondering what to call me. I'm Q, but to sort it out for you in your little mortal mind, refer to me as Lady Q."

With that, Beverly's memory of a nurse called Isra vanished. "So that was all _your_ doing?"

"What?" Lady Q blinked. "Oh! You mean the episode where you turned tail and ran at the prospect of a relationship with poor Jean-Luc. No, no, that wasn't my doing. Even I'm not that evil, nor is Q. Besides, it would be much more fun watching the two of you go about attempting to experience domestic bliss and finding it anything but blissful. Imagine, two stubborn, outspoken, bull—"

Picard interrupted and said, "I assume it's much like your own relationship with Q."

Lady Q deigned Picard with what seemed to be a genuine smile. "Nicely played, Jean-Luc. Nicely played. Too bad I won't bestow you with an answer. Though, if you must know, this is my game this time, not Q's. The universe needs saving again." Lady Q turned away from the captain and addressed the doctor. "Except this time, Beverly, you've been drafted to do the saving. Jean-Luc's been demoted to your sidekick."

Beverly considered the prospect for a moment then asked, "Does he at least get a cape?"

A snap of Lady Q's fingers and a garish purple silk cape appeared on the captain's shoulders.

Picard harrumphed and scowled deeply at both women. "Very funny."

The doctor barely held her laughter back, but managed to in order to console Jean-Luc's now-fragile dignity. "I was kidding," she said to Lady Q.

"I know." Lady Q waved her hand and the cape disappeared. "But the _look_ on his face! Now I see why Q loves to tease him so much. However... I decided to pick you to save the world since Jean-Luc always gets that role, like he's the only being in the universe capable of saving it."

"I don't see why your kind don't just do all the saving since you always seem to see the end coming."

"What would be the fun in that?" Lady Q asked. She clapped her hands and rubbed them together. "Now, as for your new mission. As I said before, you've got to stop the end of the universe. Again. I realize it's old hat to you, Jean-Luc, but this is Beverly's first time—"

"_First_ time?" Beverly asked. "You say that as if there will be more times."

"Perhaps. If you save the universe _this_ time."

And that time, Beverly scowled.

Lady Q continued, "The Mayans prophesied that the universe would come to the end in 2012. Specifically, on December 21st, 2012. They surmised that—"

"That date has already passed and the universe obviously continued onward. I don't see your point," Picard said. "As for—"

Lady Q mouthed the word 'paradox' at Picard and he promptly shut up. Lady Q went on, "As I was saying, the Mayans surmised that on that day, the magnetic poles would flip and the world as they knew it would end. The Mayans, for some reason, had this spectacular talent of being right in whatever they prophesied—even when they were wrong. They had more information about this particular apocalypse, but it was lost. In order to keep the incorrect prophecy from happening, I need the two of you to find the lost piece of the puzzle. Some moron claimed to have found it, but it was a hoax, and a bad one at that. However, enough people believed it, including Mayans, so now it will become true if it isn't disproved. Your people call these puzzle pieces codices—codex in the singular—and have this nasty habit of losing track of them. The first three will lead you to the fourth one which, of course, is the most important one."

"What do these codices look like?" the captain asked.

Beverly supplied the answer. "They're folded books starting from the pre-Columbian Mayan civilization. They're written in Mayan hieroglyphic script on Mayan paper which, by the way, was made from the inner bark of the wild fig tree. This Mayan paper was called _huun _and was much better than the Roman papyrus. The books themselves are the products of professional scribes working under the patronage of the Howler Monkey Gods. There are only three known codices: the Dresden Codex, the Madrid Codex, and the Paris Codex. The Paris Codex, by the way, was found in a rubbish bin in a Paris library."

"Not a very nice way to treat someone's scripture. What is it with you French people?" Lady Q said to Picard.

He ignored her and stared at Beverly. "When did you learn that?"

The doctor frowned. "Never. I mean... just now." She shot an accusatory look at Lady Q.

"I did a brain dump of sorts for you," the immortal being explained. "To make sure that Jean-Luc doesn't take over as the hero and you're relegated once again to sidekick. Without, I might add, a cape. Of any sort."

"That's horrible. No cape at all?"

"None."

"Damn. I suppose I'd better lead, then." Beverly turned to Jean-Luc, who kept studying her as if she'd grown three heads, a tail, had become a Q, and had declared herself the goddess of the underworld.

"That's Xibalba," Lady Q supplied. "At least to the Mayans."

"Right," said Beverly, wondering how to explain to Jean-Luc that she was merely rolling with the punches, as they could do nothing to stop the Q. Besides, she was beginning to think that she might actually be getting along with this Lady Q. At the very least, they had a sense of humor in common. Compared to Q, Lady Q was downright pleasant.

"Damn right I am," Lady Q said, commenting on Beverly's internal monologue. "But, you two must get to work. Time's counting itself down to zero while we dally. You'll have to find the first three codices before you'll find the fourth, and last, one. Why? Because each one says where you can find the following one." She snapped her fingers and three doors appeared in what Beverly guessed counted as a wall in this blank space. "I'll let you choose your own starting point. Pick a door. Oh, and as an added bonus, you can peek in each door before choosing which one you'd like to go through."

"The lady or the tiger," Picard muttered.

"You'll take care to notice that I've given you three doors, not two, and there are no tigers waiting behind those doors."

"What about beautiful women?" he asked.

"That depends," Lady Q said, "on who walks through the door first."

Beverly smirked at the captain. He scowled back at her, showing his displeasure of being outwitted. Taking on her role as leader, Beverly opened each door in turn, Picard close on her heels. Opening the first door let through a blast of stinging, cold snow that bit into their eyes and skin as if alive. She quickly slammed that door shut. The landscape behind the second door began to howl at them as soon as the door opened. Hot sand rode on the sound of the howl, digging into their skin and tearing at their eyes. Again, Beverly slammed the door. They carefully opened the third, shielding their eyes from whatever might whip through the open doorway.

Nothing whipped through. The couple dropped their hands and looked inside to see a placid jungle ecosystem, laden with lush green underbrush, soaring trees, and sprinkled with brightly colored flowers. "We have a winner," Beverly said.

Lady Q nodded. "Off you go, then. A hint for you—you'll find the codices in caves. I hope you like spelunking. Good luck." She disappeared.

The door shut on the blank room behind them. Beverly and Jean-Luc found themselves surrounded by the jungle and and the daunting task of saving the universe.


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

The jungle's single path gaped at them, the trees along the outside beckoned them in, and Jean-Luc Picard had no intentions of following the trail. "I refuse to go along with this ridiculous plan of Lady Q's." He scowled at having to use the name of 'Lady Q.' To him, it felt like he were giving her a lofty title she didn't deserve, being Q. Though, once he thought about it, the Q probably assumed that they deserved such lordly titles.

Beverly, who had been contemplating the path before the captain had made his comment, turned to him. "You're refusing to save the universe?"

He opened his mouth then shut it, looking at her in askance as she crossed her arms and waited for his answer. Finally, he asked, "You don't think she was serious, do you?"

She arched an eyebrow.

"You _do_." Clearly, his friend had lost her mind. The corners of her lips quirked in response to some amusement he didn't share. The possibility that his friend was possessed crossed his mind. "So you'll go along with this charade?"

"I think you're just bitter about being the sidekick."

He gave her no response, unwilling to be drawn into a debate over being the hero or the sidekick. Not that he especially _liked_ being the sidekick, as he was used to being the hero, as it were. He also really, strongly grated at being left to whim of a rather fickle Q.

Beverly heaved a long-suffering sigh, a sigh with which Jean-Luc was intimately familiar. She wanted him to realize something that she figured he was being purposely dense about. Which, had she asked, he would deny.

She didn't ask."Look. We're stuck with this until Lady Q decides otherwise. We can either sit here in the jungle and sulk, or go on a little adventure. I, for one, prefer adventure to sitting around doing nothing."

"I'm not playing along."

"Did you miss the part where it was described as an _archeological_ adventure?"

His mind wandered back over the conversations, and after recalling them, he felt a twinge of want to solve the mystery. He tamped it down. He would not play along. "No."

"Jean-Luc. Days in a jungle with me, tramping through caves, looking for some ancient relics, which, as I recall, you love to look for in your spare time." Restlessly, she ran her hands through her hair.

He waffled. The sun overhead illuminated Beverly's hair as she brushed errant strands out of her face, and it automatically drew his attention. More than anyone or anything, she commanded his attention. She also made a good point, and not just about the mystery presented by Lady Q. In addition, there was Beverly. If he followed along, he'd be able to take advantage of the situation by taking another crack at solving the mystery who was Beverly. Though he hadn't thought possible, she'd become even more complex as of late, between the folly of their telepathic link, followed by the enigmatic kiss she'd bestowed on him in his ready room.

She stretched, and then bent over and hefted one of the packs left to them by Lady Q.

His eyes narrowed, wondering if his friend had done that on purpose, highlighting her curves like that.

He wondered just how many whims held him at their mercy.

She smirked at him. "Or are you really miffed about the cape? Is that it?"

That did it. The captain scowled, grabbed a pack, and slung it on his shoulders. "Fine. We'll go on this adventure of yours." He gestured at the path. "Lead on."

"Give me a second," she said, unfolding a piece of paper she'd somehow gotten ahold of when he wasn't looking. "Okay. This clue says to follow the trail to the first cave. From then on, it will be apparent for where to go next."

He reached for the paper. "Are you certain?"

She tucked the paper into one of her pockets—when had they been given appropriate clothing?—and glared at him. "You don't trust me?"

Picard sighed, a long-suffering sigh of his own with which Beverly was well familiar. She'd misunderstood him and he felt he had to prove he hadn't meant to offend her. "Beverly. I trust you implicitly. It's Lady Q whom I don't trust."

"Well, I do. So follow me." Without a backward glance, she started up the trail.

He stayed put, staring at her retreating backside, and recognized an advantage to being the sidekick—he could look at her rear all day and not feel badly about it. Well, not too badly. He wouldn't ogle, that would be demeaning. But he sure could admire and appreciate as he walked behind her.

So he followed.

The hour's hike passed peacefully. The lush trees around them lulled them into a quiet complacency, the quiet interrupted only by their breathing and the fluttering of animals in the canopy above. Soon enough, the dark entrance of a cave met them at a crossroads of two new trails. Beverly stood at the entrance, biting at her lip as she glared at each new trail in turn. A frown drawing her lips downward, she said, "I can't figure out which way to go."

He took off his pack and set it on the ground. "What? You mean Lady Q didn't bestow you with that information? You'd think she would have, given its importance."

"It isn't like Q told you right away what you were supposed to do to save the galaxy." The doctor drew the paper out of her pocket, unfolded it, and then held it at arm's length. "I'm sure the answer's on here somewhere."

As the cave breathed cool, damp air onto their backs, Picard stood at the entrance, patiently waiting for Beverly to decode whatever information the paper contained. A rustle made him glance over toward her. She'd rotated the paper to the left and had narrowed her eyes as she peered at it. In sequence, she glanced from the paper to the trails, rotated the paper again, and then compared them again. After five minutes of rotation and peering, the doctor crumpled the yellowed paper in her hands before hurling the ball into the jungle between the two trails.

"That's hardly productive," Picard said.

The doctor crossed her arms and spun to face him. "It made me feel better."

He lifted an eyebrow before turning toward the cave. Squinting into the inky darkness of the cave, he muttered, "Mission accomplished."

A pause followed his statement. Within that pause, he knew he should look back at his companion. At the same time, he could feel her glare burning into the back of his neck, hotter than any ray of the jungle's sun. Deciding to err on the side of his own safety, he didn't dare turn around.

Finally, Beverly said in an intensly controlled tone, "Let's just go inside and take a look around. There has to be a clue in there somewhere."

"That's the spirit," he replied, but still didn't dare turn around. Then he reached into his pack and pulled out a flashlight, grateful of Lady Q for that, at least. Shining light on the ground in front of him, he strode into the cave without a second thought. Somehow, the depths of the cave frightened him far less than Beverly's anger. When he saw another beam of light playing along the walls, he knew the doctor had decided to follow him. They maintained silence between them. The only sound was the crunch of gravel under their feet echoing on the stone walls.

After a few minutes, their flashlights lit up stalactites. Gazing at the giant teeth of the cave, the captain stopped paying attention to his footing. His next step didn't crunch. It squished. Before he had a chance to react, his other foot had slipped in whatever squishy substance littering the cave's floor. Both feet went out from under him, and instantly, the captain of the Federation's flagship found himself laying flat on his back in a pile of squishy... something. His eyes had closed as he fell, and he'd lost his flashlight on the way down. He didn't want to open his eyes anyway, unless he was safe and warm in his bed on the _Enterprise_.

A harsh light washed over his face. Carefully, he opened one eye only to find his best friend shining her flashlight in his face. Her lips were pressed together tightly, struggling mightily to cover what must have been a considerable amount of amusement. "Are you okay?" she asked, the edges of her mouth twitching in withheld laughter.

He stared at the ceiling. "I'm fine. Really. Fine. Though I seem to have lost my flashlight."

Beverly pointed a good ten feet away from them. "It's right there, illuminating a very stunning stalagmite."

"Lovely." Picard pushed himself to his feet, grimacing when his hands made contact with the mushy substance. He wiped his hands on his pants. "What _is_ this stuff?"

"Guano."

His head snapped over to Beverly. "What?"

"Bat shit," she said. "You're covered in bat shit. Here's a towel."

When he took the towel and dourly began to wipe himself off, Beverly finally burst into laughter. Her laughs echoed off the cavern walls just as their footsteps had before. Leaving the captain to his guano removal process, she stepped over to where Picard's flashlight had landed. The captain watched her, trying to ignore the face that he was streaked with guano. Before Beverly bent over to pick up the flashlight, she kicked a rock out of the way. The rock skittered into the darkness. Just as the doctor's elegant fingers made contact with the flashlight's handle, they heard a rushing noise. Both of them studied the dark, looking for any indication of what the noise could be.

A cloud of bats zoomed out of the blackness. Whereas Picard was safely close to the cave wall, he was able to avoid the onrush of bats. Beverly, however, let out a scream and ducked, her hands flailing above her head in an attempt to ward off the flying mammals.

The departure of the bats left the cave with an empty quiet. Picard went back to fastidiously wiping the guano from his clothing. As he did so, he said, "I do believe you just screamed like a little girl."

"I did not."

He inspected his fingers once more, happy to find that they were now guano-free. "Oh, yes, you did. Yelped at a little swarm of fuzzy bats. Hardly behavior becoming of a Starfleet officer."

"And standing in a dark cave covered in bat shit _is_? You're hardly in a place to be casting aspersions, Jean-Luc." Standing in front of him now, she handed him his flashlight. "Also, guano is a vector of a whole host of diseases. So keep your hands to yourself, because I don't want to catch anything, and I don't want you to give yourself anything."

Just what was she insinuating? He had to know. "What do you mean, keep my hands to myself?"

Beverly was already heading deeper into the cave. "It means don't touch my stuff."

He frowned in the direction of her retreating backside, and then glanced down at the towel in his hands, wondering what the hell he could do with it. He'd left his pack outside. Scowling, he transferred the towel to his left hand and set about catching up with his partner. However, he took great care in stepping quite cautiously through the piles of guano. As he picked up his flashlight from beside what really _was_ a beautiful stalagmite, Beverly called from ahead, "I found something!"

"I hope it's a shower," he said.

"Nope. Too bad."

"Damn." He took a step in Beverly's direction.

"Stay there. I'll come back to you."

"You were never with me in the first place," he grumbled to himself. Then he realized how close Beverly had gotten and could only hope she hadn't heard him.

As she walked, the doctor held up what looked like a very old book between her hands. "Our first clue!"

He held out his free hand so he could look at the tome himself. Beverly snatched it away before he could touch it. "Remember what I said?"

After he shot his friend a glare, he remembered that he had cargo pockets and shoved the towel in one of them. Then he shoved his hands in his upper pockets and strolled toward the exit, leaving the doctor behind. If he couldn't actively participate, there wasn't a point to his remaining in a guano-ridden, bat-infested cave.

"Just where are you going?" came Beverly's indignant voice from behind him.

"Outside."

"To sulk."

He didn't answer. She was right_, _but he wasn't going to tell her that. Instead, he stepped into the sunlight...along with the damp, murderous heat. If this was a real rainforest, rain would be falling soon enough. After all, it was late afternoon, the time when rain typically fell. And he wanted to be outside to catch it as he didn't exactly relish the soiled nature of his clothing. Though Beverly seemed to be reveling in teasing him about it. As he stood near the entrance of the cave, his face pointed up at the sky, asking for the rain, he heard the shuffle of a page being turned behind him.

"This one's the Madrid Codex."

"That's nice." Why couldn't it rain?

More paper shuffling. "I'm not seeing anything useful, though. Oh, here's a play."

He found himself utterly devoid of what he'd previously thought to be a vast repository of patience. "Perhaps you could perform it if we ever make it back to the ship."

"Ha. Ha." After minutes of perusing the Codex, he heard Beverly shut the book with a loud snap. "Not a single clue."

"In retrospect, throwing out that treasure map seems to have been a bad idea. Wouldn't you agree?" When Picard felt the doctor's glare searing across his back, he wondered if he'd gone a bit too far. In an attempt to save his life, he kept his mouth shut and remained looking plaintively at the sky.

Behind him, he heard some foot stomping, a pack being opened. Rustling as someone rummaged through said pack.

Picard wondered if there was some sort of weapon in the pack and if his life was about to end. Mentally, he shrugged. If he was going to die, at least it was going to be by the hands of a beautiful woman. More rustling, and then the distinct sound of a paper being unfolded. Was she going to murder him by paper cut? Was that even _possible_?

"I found another copy of the paper Lady Q gave me. So you can stop being so damn smug."

Paper newly found, he found the courage to speak. "I don't know if you've forgotten, but it's hard for me to be smug when covered, as you say, with bat shit."

More rummaging. "You have a change of clothes in your pack, Jean-Luc. You can at least get out of what you're wearing now."

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't. Is it so dangerous for me not to change? I mean, what sort of disease can bats and their refuse carry, anyway?"

Footsteps, and then Beverly's presence in front of him. He faced forward, finally making eye contact. Now that he was looking at her, he searched her eyes for a murderous glint. He found none and felt a moment of relief. Then he saw it—an incredible annoyance with him arcing insider her blue irises. Even though his best friend didn't want to kill him, he was in trouble anyway. And sometimes, death was preferable to being the object of Beverly's ire.

When she spoke, it was in her physician voice. "Histoplasmosis, for starters. It's a lung disease caused by inhaling the spores of the fungus _Histoplasma capsulatum._" The doctor paused, and the annoyance was quickly replaced by realization. "Oh, dammit. Inhaled. I could just as easily catch Histoplasmosis as you could."

"You should be grateful, Beverly. At least you aren't covered in bat shit." On seeing the annoyance returning to the doctor's eyes, the captain quickly resumed looking at the sky.

It started to rain.


	3. Chapter 3

Part III

Beverly trudged resolutely upward another heart-rate elevating hill. After Jean-Luc's amazing performance of being smug while smeared with bat shit, Beverly had decided not to speak to him. In fact, she hadn't even bothered to look behind her to see if her friend had decided to follow. She didn't bother to stop when she crested the top of the hill. As with the same as the previous hills, she wasn't even rewarded with a view—only more towering, overly green trees, accompanied by also overly green vines and undergrowth. On seeing what waited for them on the never-ending trail, she lost her ability to walk, and came to an immediate halt.

Jean-Luc plowed into her from behind.

Apparently, he _had_ followed.

His momentum toppled her forward and into a rather mushy pool of mud.

She'd always wondered what a mud bath felt like. Now that her face was submerged in mud, she had no idea why other people, including her friend Deanna Troi, found it _nice_. Though she desperately wanted to stay right where she was, hiding her mud-covered front side and face from Jean-Luc, she was also biologically required to breathe if she desired to live. For one instant, the desire to live vanished. Then the next instant, when tepid mud began to seep through the front of her shirt then began to insinuate itself into her bra, the desire returned.

Beverly got to her knees, and then rolled around and sat on her rear in the somewhat dry grass. A shadow—one distinctly in the shape of a human male—fell over her almost immediately. With a silent curse, she slowly looked upward.

Jean-Luc, ever the starship captain, had remained dignified and upright... and _still_ covered in guano. Looking properly apologetic, extended a hand to her. She waved him off. No way she was going to accept help from _him_. Remaining on her rear, she shrugged off her pack and started rummaging around for her towel. Her rummaging slowed as she remembered where her towel had gone off to.

Just as her towel came into view, handed to her by Jean-Luc Picard, the man to whom she'd lent the towel to in the first place. Only this towel was entirely clean and utterly devoid of guano. With an audible sigh, Beverly snatched the towel from Picard's outstretched hand and began an attempt to clean off the mud.

"Sorry about that," said the captain.

Beverly sniffed in reply.

"Really, I am."

This time she didn't sniff, but she didn't look up at him, either. She considered doing so, as her friend sounded very sincere, and not a hint of laughter at her predicament carried in his voice.

So she looked up.

Her best friend looked into her eyes, and she could see in his gray ones concern, a bit of tiredness, the warmth of love. Was it love? Oh, yes, there it was again, it was love, an emotion she returned if not in action or words. And then something else lay behind that love, something playing along the edges, vanishing and reappearing as she searched. Ah, there it was again... was it something deeper? An emotion for her felt more deeply than love? Another glimpse of it twinkled in her friend's eyes and she recognized it. Named it.

_Amusement._

Bastard.

She took her thoughts of _love_ right back, flipped the switch on the twinkle in her _own_ irises, and instead, narrowed her eyes ever so slightly.

Whereupon Jean-Luc Picard burst into laughter at Beverly Crusher's expense.

She spent what she gathered to be about one second deciding whether to ditch her friend or kill him. Lucky for him, she decided on ditching, if only because killing would require more energy, what with hiding the body. Without a word—and as Jean-Luc continued to laugh—she stuffed the towel in her pack. Then with her grimy hands she hefted the pack onto her shoulders and headed up the trail.

Only then did she remember—all that waited for her was the stony remnant of an ancient rockslide, which meant a scramble up and over a quasi-cliff face. Not quite a rock wall requiring climbing skills, but enough of sharp elevation gain to trigger her heart-rate elevating fear of heights.

The hell with it. She had to lose that fear sometime. Now was just as good a time as any. Perhaps even better, because she had indignant anger on her side. After adjusting her pack another time and tightening the straps about her shoulders, chest, and torso, she started her scramble. Moving upward across the haphazard rocks was a bit of a mental challenge. She had to scout out a good route with enough hand and footholds, utilizing whatever she could. Roots, rocks, outcroppings, tree trunks. As she plotted her route (and not the murder of her best friend), her ire faded enough that she even allowed herself a moment to glance back to see if Jean-Luc followed.

Perhaps only ten feet below her, the captain stood holding a small tree trunk for support while his legs had found firm footing on a large granite boulder. At least, Beverly assumed that was what her friend had done, as when she glanced behind her, she'd noticed that he wasn't looking directly at her. Oh, he _was_ looking up at her, but his eyes were lower than her head. Or her shoulders. Or her mid-back. Or torso.

She'd caught Jean-Luc Picard staring at her backside.

And not out of necessity.

And he hadn't noticed that she'd noticed.

She cleared her throat.

He looked up. Eye contact made, Beverly arched an eyebrow.

His previously flushed face paled and the hand holding the tree trunk relaxed. His grip forgotten, his hand slipped off the trunk, causing him to stumble backwards. As he grasped wildly at the rocks and roots, a stream of swears in languages Beverly identified as English, French, and Klingon before she lost track, flowed from Picard's mouth. For a brief moment, Beverly worried that her friend might not regain his balance. Then he'd tumble down part of the slide, most likely doing his body damage that would require professional medical attention, and she'd have to heal him because of the Hippocratic Oath and all that, and she'd never get the chance to rub it in that she'd caught him checking out at her ass. Much to her relief, he managed to catch a root with his other hand and kept himself from harm.

He looked up again.

She smirked, and then turned around and resumed her scramble up the slide. After ten more minutes of hiking, they reached the top. Beverly pulled herself onto the relatively flat surface of the ledge and began to study her surroundings. Two openings were on either end of the inside wall of the ledge. Faces had been carved around each opening to the cave, which had been called _Actun Halal_, the Dart Cave, a long time ago. Though, Beverly wasn't sure it could really be called a cave due to its shallowness. After taking a peek down to check on Jean-Luc (who was still slowly scrambling his way to the top after his near-fall), she decided to investigate the cave itself. Inside, she much welcomed the cool, almost dry air. The cave only extended about ten feet from the openings, making it more of a rock shelter than an actual cave. A book rested on a worn stone platform—she immediately knew it was the Dresden Codex. She removed it and left the cave. Then she made herself comfortable, resting her back against the rock wall, crossing her legs, and perusing the Codex to figure out their next direction.

When Jean-Luc finally clambered up onto the ledge, she was still nonchalantly paging through the ancient book.

"It's about time you got here," she said, not bothering to look up. "I've already gone and found the next Codex, as you can see. And I've already determined where we're supposed to go next. You know, you kind of suck at being a sidekick."

A heavy pack dropped next to her with a solid thud. "Maybe I wouldn't be so bad at it if I had a cape."

"Or if you weren't checking out the hero's ass the entire time." She shut the book with a distinct slap before turning to look at her friend.

He wasn't returning her look. Instead, he was studying the faces etched into the wall outside one of the openings. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said before reaching out and tracing the outlines with the tips of his fingers. "Oh, look at these carvings. They're exquisite examples of Mayan artwork."

At first, she thought he was intentionally trying to change the subject. Then she recognized the expression on his face, the one of pure wonder he got when he saw a new star system for the first, or found a new archeological artifact. But he only allowed the expression to touch his features when he was alone or with those close to him. And for the past decade, only Beverly, Guinan, and Professor Galen had been deigned trustworthy enough to be witnesses. It was another thing Beverly loved seeing about him. Not the stalwart captain, but the curious soul inside. She decided she could save the ribbing he deserved for later. Besides, she was a woman, and damned good at saving torture for another time. And the expression of 'oh god, she _didn't_ forget' on Jean-Luc's face when she brought up a long-ago transgression was truly priceless. Yes, she'd save it for later.

"We should explore inside. Perhaps there are more artifacts," Picard continued.

Beverly rose to her feet. "You realize that a scant few hours ago, you were stomping your foot like a two-year-old and refusing to go adventuring. _Archeological_ adventuring, which you seem quite excited about right now."

Jean-Luc scowled. Like a two-year-old.

She gave him a warm smile and handed over the Codex. "Besides, there isn't anything in there other than dirt, rocks, and probably some bugs. I took the only interesting thing from there. It's the Dresden Codex."

He stopped just before he took the book from her hands. "Are you actually going to let me touch it?"

"The book? Yes. Whatever else you were staring at? Not anytime soon."

The corners of the captain's mouth twitched in want to frown as a reply attempted to escape his lips. But he kept his words to himself and quietly accepted the book.

As Picard searched through it, Beverly explained where they were supposed to go. "The next place is A_ctun Nak Beh_, which means 'the cave at the end of the road.' We follow another trail until we come across—"

"What trail?"

She sighed and pointed to a barely-visible trail below. "That one. May I continue?"

He went back to the book.

She continued, unable to keep the irritation from her voice. "As I was saying, we follow that trail until we come across a small ceremonial center—"

"What ceremonial center?"

Beverly clenched her teeth. "The one we'll come across on the trail."

"That's all you know?"

She turned to him. "It's all I've been able to _tell_ you since you keep interrupting me. And it's more than _you_ know. So if you would kindly shut up, I'll finish what I was saying."

"By all means." He didn't look mollified. Not in the least.

And for the fourth time that day, she wanted to strangle her best friend. Before she could act on that impulse, she looked back at the jungle vista below. The first view of the day. She wished she had the time, and the absence of the urge to kill, to appreciate it. "After the ceremonial center, there should be a long causeway across a lake. At the end of the causeway is where the next cave is." She slung her pack on her shoulders again. "We should get going. I want to reach that cave and the next before nightfall."

He gave her a deeply solemn nod. "By your command."

She glared at him.

He raised his eyebrows and held his hands up in innocence. "As you wish?"

Beverly heaved a weary sigh and started over the edge to begin their downward journey. "Follow me." And she was sure Jean-Luc would do so gladly.

He did.

As she'd calculated, their next destination really was only two kilometers away. Which, in the jungle heat, felt more like sixteen, but maps were maps and numbers were numbers. Except when they were imaginary. They strode across the thankfully flat causeway as a cool breeze from the lake evaporated their sweat. Outside the oppressing humidity of the jungle, Beverly was able to take in, and appreciate, the beauty of their surroundings. Even her urge to kill had faded entirely. The lake stretched from the ceremonial center to a distant forested shore. The water hugged a large hill in the middle of it, the island the causeway connected to the main center on the shore. Ripples drawn up by the breeze lapped up against the chunks of rock that formed the base of the causeway. Aside from the breaking water, the occasional echo of bird calls, and their feet crunching on the old gravel, they were surrounded by an ethereal quiet. "This place is beautiful," she said, in an almost reverent whisper.

Jean-Luc drew up next to her. "It is. This would be a rather fantastic vacation spot if not for the whims of Lady Q."

"Were it not for Lady Q, we wouldn't be seeing this place at all."

The captain sighed. "There is that." Then, "Do you mean for us to antagonize each other during this entire 'adventure' as you call it?"

Feeling scolded, Beverly reacted as such. "You started it."

A pause stretched between them before they both started to laugh at the ridiculousness, their laughter echoing along the water and off the ancient stone buildings. Then they strode together in companionable silence toward the next cave. Beverly began to feel at ease for the first time in this little adventure to save the universe. Her friend was by her side, and _on _her side, and it felt good.

A truce.

But the imp in her couldn't resist. "I saw you, you know."

Jean-Luc continued to keep his eyes on their goal. "Saw me what?"

"Oh, come on. You were totally checking out my rear."

His lips turned down on one side, a sign of him mulling over a proper answer. "I wasn't checking it out. I was _appreciating_ it. There's a difference. Besides, it was right there in front of me, for kilometers and kilometers. At that point, I'd already checked out your lovely hair and your lovely legs and couldn't help—" He stopped suddenly, obviously realizing just how much he'd admitted.

He wasn't going to escape again. "And just how is my rear, Mr. Appreciative?"

"_Captain_ Appreciative." As he corrected her, he glanced back at the rear end in question. "Also lovely." Then he turned his eyes toward the rapidly approaching hill.

Beverly allowed herself a satisfied smile. Perhaps her plan of 'them' could be worked into this whole 'saving the universe' thing.

They both walked onward, Jean-Luc intent on one goal, Beverly intent on two.

When they reached the end of the causeway and made their way around the bottom of the hill to the other side, Beverly stood and glowered. Somehow, Lady Q had neglected to include a bit of pertinent information about the location of this particular cave. The main entrance—the _only_ entrance—of the cave was located at the top of an eighty foot cliff.

Fantastic.

Her heart rate became elevated.

"You know, the wasteland of the Russian tundra isn't looking so bad right now," she muttered.

"If you wish to lodge a complaint, please lodge them with yourself, the person responsible for our locale," came the reply from her friend.

Truce over. War declared. It was _on_.


	4. Chapter 4

Part IV

Jean-Luc Picard began to worry when Beverly didn't toss back an immediate retort. When Beverly turned around with her jaw set and her lips pressed tightly together, Jean-Luc Picard _really_ began to worry. In fact, he was beginning to fear for his life. Best of all, he had no idea where the comment had come from or _why_ he had said it. After all, they'd just managed a cease-fire between them. He wondered what would happen if Starfleet found out how easily he broke cease-fires. They would never assign him or the _Enterprise_ to a diplomatic mission ever again.

Not that it would be a bad thing.

In fact, it would be quite pleasant to not be assigned a diplomatic mission ever again.

He wondered if he should tell them himself.

In his head, he began to compose the letter. "Dear Starfleet, I regret to inform you that one Captain Jean-Luc Picard has erred in the duties of a diplomat. On said Stardate (he'd have to fill that in later, he'd lost track of the date), Captain Picard willingly and knowingly broke a cease-fire, resulting in renewed hostilities between the two opposing factions. This transgression—

"Jean-Luc."

He blinked, surprised that he'd drifted off in thought, and doubly surprised that Beverly had spoken to him. Oh no, she was speaking to him already. That couldn't be good. Was this the moment of his death?

"Jean-Luc? Are you even listening to me?"

He blinked again and brought himself to make eye contact. No hint of murderous intent lay behind her blue irises, and he figured he was a fairly good judge of that. But he wasn't quite sure. One could never be quite sure around women. "What were you saying?" he asked. Though, the real question he wanted to ask was, _"Are you going to kill me?"_

Beverly motioned toward somewhere on the left side of the sheer cliff. "I found a ladder."

Frowning, he glanced over and saw that there was, indeed, a ladder. "Just now?"

With a roll of her eyes, Beverly turned away from the captain to study the ladder. "Yes. Apparently one of Lady Q's information dumps. The whole 'having to climb up a sheer rock face' must have been a little joke of hers."

"Well, you should've _seen_ the look on your face," he said, and then inhaled sharply. _Do I have a death wish?_

The doctor whirled on one foot and faced him, the corners of her eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly. "I imagine," she said slowly, "that it looks a lot like the look you have on your face right now."

He couldn't deny it. "To be honest, I'm beginning to wonder if you're going to kill me."

"And to be honest, I'm beginning to wonder if you want me to."

A resigned sigh escaped his mouth. "Are you?"

Beverly brushed errant wisps of hair out of her face. "Am I what?"

"Going to kill me."

She rewarded him with a genuine smile. "No."

He smiled back. "That's a relief."

Beverly started walking over toward the ladder. "Only because it would be too much work to hide your body. Oh, and there's that whole 'Beverly, you have to be the hero and save the universe' thing, too." The last bit was in a sing-song tone. "I don't think the hero is allowed to kill their sidekick." She glanced back at him. "Even if he's asking for it." Facing forward, she continued talking, but more to herself than to Picard. "Boys just never grow out of that phase of pulling the ponytails of the girls they have a crush on. You're just as bad in adulthood, except you use words and do other annoying things instead. Honestly, _how_ humans manage to not kill their significant others and even _then_ manage to reproduce is beyond me. I don't think the realm of science can even touch it." By this time, she'd reached the ladder, and cautiously tugged on the side with her right hand. "Is this ladder even safe?"

At the posed question, a piece of paper appeared in Beverly's free hand. "Must be a love letter from Lady Q." She read it out loud. "The ladder is safe. And I have no idea how you humans do it, either."

"We haven't _done_ anything," Picard muttered.

"You'd better be talking about saving the universe, Jean-Luc Picard," Beverly replied as she tucked the paper away in a pocket.

"Of course I was."

The raised eyebrow Beverly gave him clearly indicated that she didn't believe him. She motioned with her hand again. "You first."

Maybe she_ was _going to kill him. "Oh, no. I couldn't do that. Ladies first."

"You aren't getting anymore free views of my rear end." She smiled again, that enigmatic smile that edged somewhere between amusement and the intent to kill. "Besides, it's age before beauty, we all know that."

He opened his mouth to reply and found he had none. So he closed his mouth, sucked it up, and climbed up the rope ladder. First. Halfway up, he glanced downward to check on his friend.

Beverly was following him, only a few rungs below where he climbed. For someone who was as afraid of heights as Beverly, Picard mused, she was doing remarkably well. She had to be concentrating on something else to keep herself from looking down. Perhaps she was plotting his murder, which would keep her mind occupied. But could she really plot his murder while staring at a rock face? He took another quick glance to check. And he discovered that Beverly wasn't staring at the rock face. And she wasn't looking down, either.

She was staring at his behind, instead.

Staring so intently, in fact, that she failed to notice that he had noticed.

Before she _did_ notice, Picard brought his attention back to the ladder in front of him. For the rest of the climb, he relished his new ammunition. But by the time he got to the top, his relief of thinking Beverly had stopped plotting his demise vanished. Even while checking out his ass, she _still_ could be strategizing how to kill him and hide his body. Damn. The edginess returned, and he couldn't even bring himself to enjoy that he'd caught Beverly out. Damn, damn, damn.

He wanted to stomp his foot and shout that it wasn't fair.

Beverly was right. He _was_ acting like a two-year-old.

The sounds of breathing, a few swears, and then Beverly's hands appeared on the top rung, followed by her head. Picard decided to make himself as scarce as possible and strode over to the entrance. Like the cave before it, this cave's entrance had intricate Mayan face carvings. But unlike the other cave, there were also glyphs etched underneath the faces. He ducked under the overhang to get closer to the glyphs. His fingertips traced the lines of them but the movement brought him no comprehension of the glyphs themselves. When he removed his hands, flecks of mica glittered on the pads of his fingers. Brow furrowed, he kept studying the glyphs, refusing to give up.

"Scowling at them isn't going to help you understand them," Beverly's soft voice said from behind him.

He jumped at the sound, cracking the top of his head against the rough rock above him. How had he forgotten Beverly was there? Wasn't he supposed to be fearing for his life? Had he _no_ survival instinct?

As for the last question, he was very much starting to think that he didn't have one, or at least his mouth didn't. He hadn't had this difficult of a time keeping his replies to himself since he was a youth. And the last time he'd let his mouth run off like his had been in the past day, he'd lost his heart due to the target of his words trying to kill him. Beverly already held his metaphorical heart in her hands. He'd much prefer physically dying to her opting to crush his love into dust, scattering the ashes of his deepest emotions into the proverbial winds.

And damn, his head hurt. He couldn't remember doing so, but his hand now held the top of his head. He wasn't sure of the dampness he felt there was blood or just more sweat. One glance at Beverly told him that it was blood. The mischievous scamp had gone from her eyes, replaced by her determined physician concern. "Look into my eyes," she said.

She was checking to make sure he didn't have a concussion, though at the same time, his brain repeated the words in the seductive tone he'd always imagined.

Just how hard _had_ he hit his head? How could he think of that at a time like this?

He did as he was told, gazing steadily into his friend's captivating blue eyes. If she had any plans on killing him, she was hiding them well.

"Now let me see your scalp," she said.

He took a step back, not removing his hand from his head.

Beverly frowned and stepped forward, taking his wrists in her hands. When she went to move his hands herself, he resisted.

The doctor fixed him with a glare the captain had previously only seen when he was misbehaving in Sickbay. "Honestly, Jean-Luc, stop acting like a child and let me see. You men try to act all manly, and then when you get hurt in front of a girl, suddenly you're the biggest babies around."

That did it. He allowed his friend to move his hands. He then proceeded to glower at the vista around them as the physician assessed his head injury.

"It's just a scrape. If I had a dermal plaser, it wouldn't take me long to—" A plaser appeared in the doctor's free hand. "Thank you," Beverly said to the air, and then proceeded to make use of the plaser. Once the scrape had been healed, the plaser disappeared. The doctor took a step back and appraised her work. "Lady Q can be quite helpful. You're fine, Jean-Luc. No permanent harm done."

He grunted. "Says you." Then, wanting to be somewhere other than under his friend's annoyed gaze, he started toward the cave entrance.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," Beverly said as Picard fetched a flashlight from his pack. "Those glyphs say 'do not enter.'"

Though he knew perfectly well that Lady Q kept providing Beverly with extra information whenever she pleased, he chose to be belligerent anyway. "And how do you know?"

"I just do."

"Whatever." He stepped into the cavern. Once inside, his flashlight revealed nothing terribly exciting. A few steps into the first chamber, he scuffed his feet over the dirt on the floor, revealing what looked to be a tile mosaic underneath. He knelt down and cleared away more of the dirt and confirmed his supposition. Wanting to see the entire work of art, Picard methodically circled the chamber while wiping away the dirt under his feet. What emerged were tiles formed into the face of what Picard gathered to be some sort of Mayan god. The god vaguely resembled a macaw. "Fascinating," he said to himself. Primarily fascinating because he knew next to nothing about the Mayan religion—while Beverly knew practically everything through her connection with Lady Q.

He found another arched opening inset along the back wall of the antechamber. After briefly shining his light inside, where it was immediately engulfed by darkness, he strode into the next room. Then he heard something.

The captain halted and titled his head to listen. Yes, there was the noise again. After listening intently for a minute, he decided it was tiny pebbles hitting the ground. Perhaps there was a crack in the mosaic he hadn't seen and the disrupted dirt he'd scraped away was now falling into another chamber below. With a shrug, Picard stepped deeper into the main chamber. He knew a Codex had to be in here somewhere and he was determined to find it and prove Beverly wrong. Why he had to prove her wrong, he'd no idea, but dammit, he had to. His flashlight illuminated more mica, these specks reflecting the light more strongly than the sun had outside. In the middle of the chamber, he finally caught sight of the Codex in a recessed portion of the stone wall. He moved toward it, scraping at the dirt as he went, hoping to find another mosaic. Once he reached the recessed area, he did another quick survey of the walls of the chamber around him. Once again, he lit up more mica. The flecks seemed even larger, and most of them were symmetric pairs, like tiny little eyes.

The hand reaching for the Codex stopped in mid-air.

Tiny little eyes.

He spun around, highly alarmed, and the light traveling in a circle revealed that every single bit of 'mica' was in a symmetric pair.

Like tiny little eyes.

He looked up, flashlight following the movement of his head.

Something dropped onto his face.

It had tiny little legs.

Fuzzy ones.

He let out a sound a Starfleet captain and a man his age should never make. Ever. From his throat came a cry that was a cross between a strangled human, a frightened rabbit, and a very small child. And then his throat stopped working. As did his lungs. Perhaps even his heart.

If he'd dropped dead, he would've been very grateful.

Instead, he remained steadfastly alive. He wiped the fuzzy thing from his face and bolted. One glance behind him revealed the tiny pairs of symmetric eyes all following him. Only now, his flashlight revealed tiny fuzzy bodies with eight fuzzy legs attached to those eyes. He dashed over the mosaic—entirely forgetting its existence—through the opening, and then outside, barely remembering to stop before he catapulted over the ledge.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Beverly asked, looking up from a map.

When had she gotten another map?

He couldn't manage to form a coherent thought, much less a sentence. And they were _right behind him_ and there were _thousands_ and their lives were at stake. "There's... behind... eyes... fuzzy... on my face..." Picard grabbed Beverly's shoulders. "Run!"

She blinked and glanced around. "Where?"

And then the spiders—tarantulas, the captain's brain told him, though he didn't comprehend it until much later—streamed from the opening he'd just run through. The herd of them (they couldn't be called anything less) flowed over the outcropping and down the sides of the cliff. They left the two humans unmolested, without even a single one of their fuzzy legs touching them.

"Oh, they're babies!" the doctor said. "Baby tarantulas! I never thought a spider could be that adorable."

His eyes so wide that they could almost fall out of their sockets, the captain turned to Beverly. He took Beverly's cheeks between his hands so that he could look her fully in the face. "Are you _mad_?"

Beverly cupped Picard's face with her own hands, brought him forward, and kissed him fully. Not even a second had passed before he responded, all thoughts of spiders and tarantulas and the one that'd fallen on his face fled from his mind. How long had he wanted her to kiss him like this?

She slowly, gently broke the kiss and rested her forehead on his. "Jean-Luc," she whispered.

The captain gazed into his friend's eyes again and waited for her to speak. He thought she would explain herself; even tell him that she returned his love.

At least until he saw the scamp tugging a smile at the corner's of Beverly's lips. "I do believe that you just screamed like a little girl."


	5. Chapter 5

Part V

Beverly allowed the smirk on her face to turn into a full-fledged smile. "Also," she said, "I told you so." Then she took a step back. Few times in her life had the doctor witnessed Jean-Luc Picard speechless. Even fewer times had she been the one to render him speechless, as she had just done. As the captain's face failed to compose itself, as his mouth stayed open in a rather non-captain-like manner, Beverly reveled in her triumph. The war had been short, quick, and she had emerged as victor.

Leaving Jean-Luc to his thoughts, and apparent paralysis, the doctor re-took her seat against the outcropping's wall. Only part of the ledge had the overhang, and she'd chosen to sit in the sun, something she rarely got to do on a starship. Lady Q had left another map, this one outlining the way from this particular cave to their final one. By her calculations, they could make it to the next cave by nightfall if they made good time. Of course, if her partner didn't regain the ability to speak or move, they'd never make it anywhere. She resisted glancing over at him. The kiss _had_ been nice, nice enough that she almost forgave him and almost kept her comment to herself.

Almost.

Besides, he'd asked for it.

Now, if they were going to get to the next site, they had to get the Codex out of this cave and get going. And since the Starfleet captain with her had suddenly become useless, she'd just have to do it herself. She folded the map and tucked it into her backpack, snatching up her flashlight at the same time. She'd taken one step toward the cave's entrance when she felt a hand grab her forearm.

"I'll go," Picard said.

"Oh, so you remember how to speak," Beverly said as she turned around to face him. Then she proceeded to ignore the particularly annoyed look her friend was giving her. "I was wondering if you'd permanently gone mute. I think Q would've been quite happy, you know. No more of your long lectures on proper behavior, or conduct becoming a member of the Q-continuum. Come to think of it, I wouldn't have to hear any more of your long-winded lectures about the Prime Dir—"

As she'd talked, the captain had taken her other arm, raised both her arms over her head, and walked her back against the rough rock wall where she'd been sitting. Then he'd completely silenced her by pressing his lips to hers and kissing her thoroughly. More thoroughly, she realized, than she'd done to him before. In fact, it was quickly progressing towards passionate and possibly leading towards things they shouldn't be thinking of doing at the entrance of an ancient Mayan cave. As she kissed him back, Beverly had no objections, as she'd won the war, and now she could even complete goal number two of this little adventure.

At least, those were her thoughts on the matter before Jean-Luc dropped her hands and stepped away.

"As I was saying, I'll go in and get the Codex," he said, as if nothing had just happened.

This time, it was her mouth left agape. However, she managed to regain her ability to speak much faster than the captain had. "What the hell was that?"

He flashed a _far_ too satisfied grin at her. "Getting even." Then he walked through the entrance.

"Fine, you go into that cave of tarantulas all by your lonesome. See if I care." Beverly knew it was a weak retort, but it was all that came to mind. Her irritation at Jean-Luc flared beyond what it'd been before. How could she love that man? How possibly? Yet, even when she admittedly wanted to flay him, she loved him.

_Damn_ him. She hoped a second herd of tarantulas waited for him. A herd of the baby tarantulas' _parents_.

When the captain strode out of the cave for the second time, looking none the worse for wear, and carrying another Codex, Beverly cursed. Apparently, the baby tarantulas had no parents.

Damn them, too.

"What was that?" Picard asked, opening the volume once he'd gotten into the sunlight. He sounded entirely too cheerful for someone who had supposedly just lost a war.

"Nothing." She refused to look at him as she put her pack back on.

"If you say so." He flipped through a few pages. "I believe this is the Paris Codex."

"I'm surprised you didn't just throw it straight into the trash," she said, giving in and glancing over.

He kept his nose in the book. "Couldn't find a rubbish bin."

She narrowed her eyes. Why did Jean-Luc Picard have to be such a quick learner? Or had he always been like this, holding back retorts like the ones he'd been giving, and holding them back so well that they didn't even appear in his thoughts? Because she certainly hadn't caught any sarcasm of this nature when she could read his mind on Kesprytt.

"Have you got the next leg of our journey planned?" The captain closed the book, and then looked over at her expectantly.

Her face remained inscrutable.

He raised his eyebrows. "What?"

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a compliment of his wit. "Nothing. As a matter of fact, I do have the next route ready to go. We should be able to make it by nightfall. Since we haven't had much rest and lunch was so light, we should camp by the cave and find the last Codex in the morning."

Picard rummaged through his pack. "We haven't got any provisions."

"I'm sure those will be taken care of. It isn't like a hero can save the universe on an empty stomach."

"I have," said the captain as he slipped on his pack.

Beverly strode over to the ladder. "I never said you were a hero." She didn't need to see Jean-Luc's face to know the outrage that had appeared on it. "I'll go first. You can follow me."

"I'll bet you'd like that," Picard said in a very low tone Beverly was fairly certain she was not meant to hear.

But she'd heard it and halted only three rungs down the ladder to call him on it. "What do you mean by that?"

A quite pleased expression dancing across his face, Jean-Luc squatted down so he could peek over the ledge and meet Beverly's eyes only a foot away. "Nothing at all, Dr. Appreciative."

Beverly responded by continuing down the ladder. She had _not_ been admiring his rear end, she'd been concentrating on not looking down. And possibly admiring his rear end at the same time. The ladder shook as the captain started his descent a few feet ahead of her. The doctor decided she'd retaliate by admiring Jean-Luc's rear the entire trip down the ladder. On reaching the ground, Beverly dusted off her pants, grabbed the map, checked it, and set off toward the next cave. The hour's march passed in a wordless war, each of them trading off who led them along the trail so that the other could follow. Of course, they weren't fighting for who got to lead anymore—it was for who got to admire.

Admiring only stopped when the sky somewhere above the jungle canopy opened up and unleashed a torrent of rain. Within seconds, both of them were thoroughly soaked, thoroughly tired, and thoroughly cranky. The hike ended in a near-blind bushwhacking through the undergrowth until they managed to find the slight hill to a small clearing and what seemed to be another cave entrance. Closer examination revealed the etching and carving around the opening to the cavern. A three foot overhang kept a small area in front of the entrance protected from the rain.

"We should set up camp in the cave and sleep there," Picard said, setting his pack on the dry ground just outside the door.

The doctor shook her head. "No. Absolutely not."

Picard glared at her as if she were a misbehaving child. "Beverly, I don't know if you've noticed, but it's pouring out. If you want to sleep in the rain just to be contrary—"

"Jean-Luc, not wanting to sleep in the cave has nothing to do with _you_, aside from your well-being, which I'm definitely beginning to regret caring about. We can't sleep in the cave."

"And just why the hell not?"

"Because inside those caves are assassin bugs." She crossed her arms, getting ready for an argument. Another one. "When we're just in for a quick exploration, they don't pose a real threat. But if we're asleep and completely unawares, they could easily, multiple times, crawl onto us and bite us."

"They're just bugs."

Beverly raised an eyebrow. "And tarantulas are just spiders."

Picard said nothing.

She continued, "An assassin bug's bite can carry Chagas' Disease. Chagas' Disease a human tropical parasitic disease which occurs in the Americas, particularly in South America. Its pathogenic agent is a flagellate protozoan named _Trypanosoma cruzi_, which is transmitted to humans mostly by blood-sucking assassin bugs of the subfamily _Triatominae_. The symptoms of Chagas' disease vary over the course of the infection. The early stage symptoms are mild and are usually no more than local swelling at the site of infection. As the disease progresses the serious symptoms appear, such as heart disease and malformation of the intestines. If untreated, the disease is often fatal."

The captain's eyes narrowed. "Was that another brain dump?"

"No. I learned it in medical school. You know, where they teach us about diseases, oh, and fifty ways to kill a human being without leaving a mark. Though, that last one was an elective. But I figured, one never knows when that could come in handy."

Picard held her gaze for a beat before he sighed. "Fine. I'll start a fire. You do... whatever it is you intend to do."

"That sounded like an order."

"Sorry, lapse in memory. Hard to keep that whole sidekick thing straight when I haven't got a cape to remind me." He trudged into the jungle as she glared after his retreating backside.

As her wayward sidekick hunted for dry wood, Beverly found that Lady Q had indeed given them ample provisions as they'd hiked. The captain managed to find some suitable wood and made a fire when he returned. They ate wordlessly, each of them planning their next move in the war between them. When the food was gone, each set about searching their packs in the hope of finding a tent or sleeping bag or both. Beverly came up triumphantly with a sleeping bag, though still lacking in a tent. The captain found neither.

"Too bad you were mean to me, or I might have shared," Beverly said, unable to keep the glee from her voice.

Picard scowled at her. "Had it crossed your mind that you might have been mean to me first?"

The doctor unrolled her sleeping bag. "No."

He did a double-take. "No?"

"I wanted you to know that I protested your posting to the _Enterprise_," Beverly said, attempting to make her voice sound as serious as Jean-Luc's had been those seven years ago.

The captain's scowl grew deeper. Deep enough that Beverly couldn't tell if he was truly indignant or only mock indignant. "You aren't still holding that against me, are you? It's been seven years, and if I should have been trying harder to make it up to you in all those years, you could have at least told me." He began to pace the small area under the overhang.

Banking on mock indignance, Beverly smiled. "No, I don't still hold it against you."

The captain spun around on one foot and looked at Beverly incredulously. "Then _why_ did you bring it up?"

She shrugged. "I had to come up with something."

Picard threw his hands up in the air in complete exasperation as he turned to face the jungle. "Women!" Then he turned back around. "No, no. Not women in general. Just... just... just _you_!"

"You really didn't want to share my sleeping bag, did you?"

The captain's mouth moved, but no words came out. For the second time that day, the captain of the _Enterprise_ was completely gobsmacked.

Beverly smiled innocently.

Then her sleeping bag disappeared from her hands.

Picard started laughing. "Oh, that was wonderful!" he said. "The look on your face was fantastic! Serves you right, I think, after rubbing it in my face that I hadn't gotten one. And that you weren't sharing."

Two sleeping bags winked into existence just outside the dry overhang. Both the captain and the doctor bolted and rescued them from the rain. As they carried the bags underneath the ledge, two sets of dry clothing appeared outside the cavern entrance. Beverly set her bag next to her backpack before picking up her set of clothing. "I get to change first."

Jean-Luc made a show of surveying the area around them. "And where do you propose you change? It certainly can't be the cave. Wouldn't want your lovely rear getting bitten by an assassin bug. Or _mine_ for that matter."

She couldn't argue with that, on either point. "Well, you could be a gentleman and turn the other way. And promise not to peek."

He smirked. "Only if you agree to be a lady and do the same for me."

"Are you implying that I'm not a lady?"

Picard said nothing, merely raised his eyebrows.

Beverly held up a hand. "Nevermind. Don't answer that."

His reply was to turn around and sit down.

The doctor quickly swapped wet clothing for dry. It felt positively luxurious. Since she hadn't detected any untoward behavior from Jean-Luc, she decided to be a proper lady and didn't peek while her friend changed. They spread their sleeping bags on opposite sides of the fire. Just as each of them went to climb in, the bags disappeared.

They both glared up at the sky, and said in concert, "Very funny."

Yet no replacement bags appeared.

But the rain stopped.

Resigned to a night without the comforts of even a blanket, or comforts of any sort, each of them sighed and sat back down where their sleeping bag had formerly been. They studied one another across the crackling fire. The flames were all that was left to them for the night. They said nothing and after a few moments, each of them lay down, contemplating the rock ceiling above, or imagining the stars beyond.

Beverly's mind quickly drifted from the rock to imagining the starry sky above it to the night she'd shared with Jean-Luc on Kesprytt. Or hadn't shared, as it had turned out. What she couldn't figure out was what had stopped them from sharing anything more than thoughts. Both of them felt the same about one another—ranging from pure annoyance to actual love—and neither one of them were opposed to a relationship. But something stopped them, whatever it was. If she bothered to try forging something tonight, would they hit another stone wall? She groaned at her inadvertent joke. If her brain didn't shut up, she wouldn't get any sleep _and_ she wouldn't be getting any of anything else.

"You can't sleep either?" Jean-Luc asked from the other side of the fire.

She sighed. "No."

"We have flashlights, you know. And in a cave, night doesn't exactly apply. We could just finish our little adventure now."

Beverly stood up and grabbed her backpack. "What do you say, Jean-Luc? Shall we go and save the universe?"

He gave her a half-smile. "I suppose I could be convinced."

She mouthed 'sidekick' at him.

"Or commanded." He swept his hand toward the opening. "Lead on."

Once they had stepped inside the cavern, the opening that they'd walked through changed into a solid rock wall. Beverly mentally rolled her eyes. Stone wall. "I can take a hint," she said out loud.

"I think we're beyond hinting," the captain replied.

She'd _like_ to be beyond hinting, way beyond, in fact, but whoever held their fates didn't seem to be in a particularly generous mood. Gritting her teeth, she moved through the next cave wall opening and took in the room beyond. The walls glittered with quartz from floor to a ceiling their flashlights barely illuminated. Two slate stelae stood guard on opposite sides of the cave, while a clear pool bisected the room.

Picard whispered, "Magnificent," and moved forward to inspect the stelae.

Beverly smiled to herself at her friend's wonder of ancient history. Then she walked over to the pool and squinted into it. She could see to the pebble-lined bottom. Already, she could feel cold air wafting from the pool's surface. After glancing around the area, she realized there was no way to the other side except for crossing through the pool itself. "Dammit. We have to go swimming."

"What?" The captain strode over to where Beverly knelt in front of the pool. "We only just dried off. There has to be another way. Have you even bothered to look?"

Picard's accusatory tone served as the final step to igniting her temper once again. The war was back on. Again. "What, is a little water going to hurt you?"

"I rather like the idea of warm, dry clothing."

She stood up. "Carry your pack on your head and you can change into another set of dry clothing once we reach the other side. Didn't you learn anything in captain school? Or will it hurt your hairless scalp to carry a pack on it?"

He glared at her. He glared at her some more. And then he did just as she'd suggested, complete with dignity and aplomb.

Beverly waded in after him, barely holding in a gasp as she hit the cold water. How could he not have made a sound? She _knew_ his parts were more sensitive to temperature changes than hers. _How dare he appear so dignified. _She dropped her pack into the water—where, oddly enough, it stayed afloat—not that she cared. Then she leapt forward and plunged her friend completely under the chilly water.

When he got back to the surface, he was gasping. And not, she thought smugly, due to lack of air.

His gasping stopped.

She didn't take note of the expression on Jean-Luc's face until it was too late. Before it registered in her mind, Picard had already wrestled her below the surface. Floating in the cold, clear water, with her friend so very close, Beverly decided.

_Oh, the hell with it_.

When she gained the upper hand, instead of pushing Jean-Luc back under the water, she pulled him toward her.

He got the hint.

For, as he'd said minutes before, they were beyond hinting. Hands roamed freely, lips met and met again. Beverly couldn't think of a single reason why they hadn't tried this long before.

"We have to find the last Codex," Picard said in between kisses.

"I don't care," she replied as she unbuttoned his shirt.

"Beverly, we have to save the universe." Though, he didn't sound particularly convinced that it had to be saved right at that moment.

She began to divest him of his trousers. "Jean-Luc, I don't care."

A flash of light, and they were on the opposite side of the pool, fully clad in wetsuits. Wisps of smoke spelled out, "I care," in front of them.

Beverly kicked her backpack. "_Damn_ it. Someone _is_ stopping us."

"Perhaps they're just rerouting us for the time being."

She glared at him, as he was an easy target for her frustration, though not the cause. This time. "Do you always have to be so optimistic?"

"Someone has to counter your remarkable pessimism. The depth of it is rather shocking considering that you're a physician." The captain then proceeded to put his pack in the dry bag that had been conveniently placed next to it.

Beverly made an incoherent sound venting both anger and her rapidly escalating frustration. She roughly opened up the map, and then grabbed her pack. The dry bag that had been next to it—which she'd ignored—appeared around it. The map, which she hadn't bothered to put away, also remained quite dry. "Let's go, Picard," she yelled.

"No need to shout," came the reply from right behind her.

She whirled around, willing every spark of anger to appear in her eyes.

"I mean, yes ma'am," Picard quickly corrected himself.

"Good."

For the first time in the entire adventure, the captain chose wisely... and remained silent.

They worked their through way through the caverns, climbing over large rocks, through tight passages, and often in waist-deep water. The deeper into the cave system they went, the more artifacts they came across. Bones became more common, as did stelae, though none as large as they'd found at the entrance. After over an hour of spelunking through the Cave of Cold Water, as Beverly had named it, they emerged into a cavern twice as large as the first. They were also able to finally exit the water.

Beverly wondered if the entire walk had been Lady Q's version of a cold shower.

She was willing to put money on it that it was.

_Bitch_.

Shoving aside her anger for the time being, she took stock of her surroundings. The cavern was wide open, the lights from their flashlights engulfed by darkness before it could reach the ceiling far above. It was practically a cathedral of stone. Stalagmites and stalactites formed teeth at the far end of the cavern. In the middle of the rows of teeth stood a calcite-covered skeleton.

The skeleton clutched an ancient volume.

Lady Q appeared and plucked the last Codex from the skeleton's hand. She opened the book and read, "December 21, 2012 is also the Winter Solstice, and will provide us with a view that will not be seen again in any of our lifetimes. The Sun will conjunct the intersection of the Milky Way in the ecliptic, giving us view of the Sacred Tree, giving us view of the Tree of Life." Lady Q's eyes lit up. "Ah! I see what they did. Someone confused with flipped magnetic poles prophesy with the position of the Great Rift in the sky!"

"It's a clarification?" Picard asked.

Lady Q snapped the Codex shut. "Yes. You're bright for a sidekick. You should have a cape."

A billowing purple cape appeared around Jean-Luc's shoulders.

Beverly forced herself to ignore Jean-Luc in a cape, though it proved a very difficult task. "A clarification stops the universe from ending?"

"No, not really. But it does save the doomsayers from the embarrassment of having nothing to do after their doomsday passes them right by as they sit on their hill."

Picard, to Beverly's surprise, remained quiet.

The doctor regarded Lady Q suspiciously (as, she was sure, Jean-Luc would point out that it was how she should have regarded Lady Q in the first place). "Then just what was the point of making us find that Codex?"

"Oh, I was somewhat miffed that one of their works about us had been lost," Lady Q replied with a toss of her hand.

Beverly crossed her arms. "Works about you?"

"Well, the Mayans did believe that the entrance to Xibalba is in the Great Rift. Just where do you think the Continuum is?"

"Up your—"

"Not there, my dear." Lady Q extended her hand. "I'm also known as Ixtab. Nice to meet you."

"The goddess of suicide? That's heartening."

Lady Q grinned. "Now that's the spirit! I love how optimistic you are, Doctor."

Picard finally brought himself to speak. "So you're saying that the Mayans were wrong?"

Lady Q shrugged. "Mortals generally are. The universe, in the long run, has a history of pretty much not ending."

A familiar voice resonated throughout the cavern. "Only because I insist on making Jean-Luc keep it that way."

"Q!" Picard yelled.

A flash of light and the Q in question appeared in front of the captain. "No need to shout, mon capitaine." Q then winked at Beverly.

She ignored him.

Lady Q didn't. "Only I insisted on Beverly keeping it that way this time." She smirked at Q. "I have no idea how you find her so irritating. She's been nothing but perfectly pleasant with me."

Beverly turned to Picard. "He finds me irritating?"

Q opened his mouth to reply for the captain, but Lady Q stopped him. "I think it's time for us to leave, Q."

"What for? I haven't even explained about turning her into a—"

Lady Q covered Q's mouth with her hand. "My dear, you _want_ to die?"

"She can't kill me, I'm immortal," Q replied, remarkably clearly, considering Lady Q hadn't removed her hand.

"All I'd have to do would be to tell her that you're the one who's been stopping them all this time."

Beverly rounded on Q faster than any of them—even the two omniscient beings—thought possible. "You!"

Q's eyes opened wide.

And then he disappeared in his trademark flash of light.

"Bring him back," the doctor said.

"I would," said Lady Q, "but I truly don't want him dead, no matter how often I contemplate murdering him. You know how it goes, my dear. You're the same with your Jean-Luc, there. Oh! Speaking of. I'm putting a stop to Q putting a stop to you two. I've also taken the measure of removing all sorts of bugs from this pretty cavern. And arachnids as well, Jean-Luc, so don't you worry about that. You've supplies for the night, including one extra-large sleeping bag, and even an air mattress. Also, there's another pool behind you, and this one isn't quite so cold. You'll return to your ship in the morning, none the worse for wear. And no one will be stopping you this time." Lady Q winked. "You kids have fun."

And she was gone.

_The hell with it_.

Beverly took Jean-Luc by the hand and yanked him toward the newly-formed pool. After shaking away his astonishment, he willingly followed. After she pointedly removed her former sidekick's billowing purple cape, Beverly finally accomplished goal number two.

Somehow, it felt more satisfying than saving the universe.


End file.
